I'll Hold Him Off
by illjwamh
Summary: Suppose James hadn't left his wand on the sofa that night.


Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the sole creator of all characters herein and of the universe in which they reside. I'm merely playing with them.

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Hallowe'en had always been one of James's favorite holidays. There were always plenty of sweets, it was an excuse to eat copious amounts of food, wear costumes and act generally ridiculous. Sadly – save for the sweets – there would be none of that this year. Being in hiding had that effect. He wouldn't even be seeing any of his friends. Sirius had said he would be visiting on the second, Peter was in hiding himself and barely came round at all, and he hadn't seen Remus in months. He had no idea what his friend was up to for the Order, though he had his suspicions, but he worried for Remus's safety.

Yet despite all this, James Potter was happy. He was safe at home with the two people he loved most in the world, and that was all that mattered. The Fidelius Charm was holding, the Death Eaters had not caught up with Sirius, and though he knew things couldn't stay the way they were forever, Dumbledore had promised he was working on a more permanent solution to their problem. James was too, for that matter, though the brunt of his efforts thus far had been centered around contingency plans for their current predicament.

Reclining on the couch, James turned his head to look out the large window on the front of the house. Children in costumes were scampering about the village doing whatever it was muggle children did for Hallowe'en. He'd have to ask Lily when she came down.

'You know,' rang her voice from the stairs as if he'd summoned her with his thoughts. She carried Harry with her, now clean from his bath and changed into his new blue pyjamas. 'It's a shame no one can see our house. I've never had trick-or-treaters before. I think it would be fun.'

'Trick or what?' James asked as he relieved his wife of their son. He placed Harry on the couch next to him.

'Trick-or-treaters. Those muggle children out there.' She pointed out the window.

'Oh, is that what they're called? I was just thinking I wanted to ask you about them. What are they doing?'

She smiled, as she did whenever James displayed ignorance of the muggle world. For whatever reason, she deemed it "cute".

'They're going from door to door asking for sweets,' she explained. James's eyebrows shot up.

'That's how muggles celebrate Hallowe'en?' he asked. 'Damn. Why couldn't I have been muggle-born?'

Lily laughed. He loved it when she did that. 'You would have loved it. If a house doesn't have any sweets, you play a prank on them.'

'That is so unfair!' James exclaimed. 'Why don't wizards do this?'

'I expect it's because outside of Hogsmeade, there are never enough of us in one place. Though I suppose people who live in muggle neighborhoods might do it. Harry probably will if – ' she stopped, and James knew what she had been about to say: 'If we're ever able to come out of hiding.'

'He will, love,' James said confidently and tenderly as he stood up to kiss his wife. 'We'll come up with something. That bastard can't keep us here forever.'

'James, language,' she admonished, but he knew she wasn't really cross. They'd long since accepted that Harry would be subject to all kinds of foul language from his godfather, and so were mostly planning on simply teaching him not to use it himself rather than keeping him from it. She leaned into him and they wrapped their arms around each other, and husband and wife simply held each other for a time.

A stomach gurgled, they both had a laugh discussing whose it might have been, after which Lily retreated to the kitchen to prepare a modest feast for dinner. James returned to the sofa, placed Harry on his lap and took out his wand.

'You'll be out there someday with the muggle kids begging for sweets,' he told his son, kissing the top of his head. He expelled a puff of green smoke from his wand and Harry laughed, swatting at it. Next came a red puff, then a blue. Harry seemed to enjoy this newly invented game, and so James continued sending out puffs of smoke in every color he could imagine. Puce, mauve and orange were followed by yellow, maroon and violet. Harry giggled louder with each one and tried to catch them in his tiny fists.

After perhaps ten or fifteen minutes of this, Lily emerged again from the kitchen, announcing that the food should be finished preparing itself in another ten or so.

'Give me my baby,' she said. James pretended to be put out.

'You just had him!' he whinged.

'And you've been in here playing with him while I was preparing food for both of you. I want him.' Her pout was better (and cuter) than his, so he relented and scooped up their son and handed him to Lily. He then lay back on the couch with a stretch and a yawn. He was about to ask Lily what she'd set to cooking when a loud bang emanated from the front door.

Quicker than he'd ever moved in his life, even counting quiddich, James had gripped his wand, leapt over the back of the couch and sprinted into the hall. What he saw there made his blood run cold – a tall man with chalklike skin in a long black cloak with glowing red eyes - yet he could not panic; he had a matter of seconds in which to act.

'Lily, take Harry and go!' he shouted as loud as he could. 'It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!'

Barely had he said this when he heard the words that had ended so many lives, '_Avada Kedavra!'_ and a jet of green light shot toward him. Without even thinking of what he was doing, James summoned the umbrella stand to intercept, and it exploded in a twisted ball of fire. Immediately after, James fired a blasting curse, which caught the Dark Lord off-guard and actually hit his shoulder. Behind him, James could hear Harry's cries as Lily carried him up the stairs.

Voldemort, now clearly furious, fired another spell, but this was one James was able to deflect, and so he did, resulting in a large scorch mark on the wall.

'You fight valiantly,' Voldemort taunted, 'yet you must know it is futile. I will kill you, and then your child, and there is simply nothing you can do about it.' He fired another curse, which James again deflected into the wall.

'Funny, seems to me you've tried to kill me a few times before,' James taunted back. Any time he could buy – any at all – could be the difference that saved his family. 'Didn't quite take.' He fired a stunning spell and a _flipendo_, both of which Voldemort waved away like gnats.

'Do not mistake blind luck with competence on your part,' the Dark Lord sneered. He sent a jet of purple fire at James which his most powerful shield could barely keep at bay. Knowing he was about to lose the fight and his life, James did what he had always done best: he improvised. Twisting to the side and pressing himself against the wall at the same moment he dropped his shield, James pointed his wand at the ceiling above his foe and thought with all his might, '_Deprimo!'_

A hole opened above the Dark Lord, and Voldemort, who had not been expecting this, let out a cry of surprise and rage as the rubble from the room above collapsed on top of him. Wasting no time, James set the pile of rubble on fire, but that merely meant he was rewarded with flaming shrapnel a moment later as the Dark Lord blasted himself loose.

Three killing curses were fired in rapid succession and James had to jump and dodge out of the way, until he had been backed all the way into the living room. Hopefully Lily had made it to Harry's room and was about to make her escape. If he could just buy them a few more seconds…

'_Avada Kedavra!'_ another jet of green light flew into the room, and James sent a lamp hurtling into its path. As the tall, thin figure stalked into the room, James whipped his wand around and thought, _'Relashio!'_. Voldemort was forced to parry, and James followed up with another blasting curse. This time the Dark Lord retaliated with his own blasting curse, and even though he'd managed to raise a shield, James was still sent hurtling across the room into the opposite wall. As Voldemort raised his wand to finish him off, James heard the chime that meant Lily and Harry had successfully escaped. James grinned. Mission accomplished. Anything from here on out was just icing on the cake.

Momentarily distracted, Voldemort had looked up the stairs at the sound of the chime. If he didn't immediately understand its meaning, James could tell from the look of absolute rage on his face that he was fast putting it together. He turned to face James once more, his body rigid with fury and his features blazed with wrath. James countered him with a cocky grin.

'Looks like I win again, mate,' he declared proudly.

'You dare – '

But the Dark Lord did not finish speaking, for James unleashed upon him a barrage of blasting, stunning, stinging, bludgeoning and all other manner of bashing spells he could muster. And though Voldemort blocked them all, he was, for a moment, pushed back. Not all the way to the hall, but into the center of the room – right where James wanted him.

When James could maintain the onslaught no more, Voldemort raised his wand again. He clearly knew James was spent, and was planning on relishing his victory. Fortunately for James, he had one card left to play that his enemy did not know about. In fact, no one – not even Lily – knew about it. He looked to the bookshelf next to the fireplace (miraculously unharmed despite the devastation around it), where on the top shelf sat a muggle novel that no one would ever look twice at. While Voldemort readied himself to kill, James pointed his wand at the novel and shouted, '_Accio!_' The book flew to his hand, mere moments ahead of the green light just now leaving the tip of Voldemort's wand. When he caught it, he felt the familiar pull behind his navel as the Dark Lord, now aware of what was happening, looked on in furious disbelief. Boy was he in for a surprise.

Just before he was yanked away, James locked eyes with his would-be murderer one last time, smirked as boldly as he ever had, and uttered a single word: 'Boom.'

As deadly green light passed through the space where James Potter had just been, a squealing pulse rang out from the fireplace, proceeded by a blinding ball of white light. As He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named looked on in utter disbelief, the Potter house in Godric's Hollow quite literally blew up in his face, and as his body was vaporized and his soul ripped away from it, Voldemort contemplated whether or not this was what it felt like to die.

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That's it. For now. I'll probably do more with this later, but for the moment it was just an idea dancing around in my head that I couldn't get rid of. I have other stories to work on before I do anything more with this, and for the moment it's accomplished what I wanted it to.

Reviews are much appreciated.


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